


Love Me (Until) Tomorrow

by slagmaker



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One, Transformers: Cyberverse
Genre: Caminus, F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Kiss, Lesbian robots, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:49:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22598095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slagmaker/pseuds/slagmaker
Summary: Windblade needs a favour from Chromia to keep a lie going... but she may have ulterior intentions as well.
Relationships: Chromia/Windblade
Kudos: 16





	Love Me (Until) Tomorrow

“Chromia,” Windblade said, dropping down next to Chromia. “I may be in need of a little favor.”

Chromia looked up at her from her seat at the counter at Caminus’ finest (which equaled cheapest which equaled most friendly) bar. She had been waiting for Windblade to come at her fussing over the annual Cityspeaker Celebration, now having gained the official rank – title – of Cityspeaker. With of course, came with all sorts of uncomfortable additions and formalities. Chromia had been drinking a _little_ while waiting for her, the next few days being off days for her. She was also expecting Windlade to also need more than a little Engex to make it through the evening.

“Just a _little_ favor?” she asked with a smile.

“Yes. You know what.”

“Worried about the Celebration? Nervous?”

“Yes…” Windblade looked down at her feet, shifting.

“Is it that formal?”

“It’s not that, it’s just me and other newcomers and a few veterans…” she mumbled in response, clearly avoiding a subject.

Chromia hadn’t drunk much yet, but still felt lost. Where was this going?

“So,” Windblade started again, “my superiors still thinks I’m conjunxed.”

Slightly awkward, Chromia said, “I’m not really following but let me guess,” she shook her head, “so she’s been assuming you’re conjunxed and you just never corrected her?” 

Windblade sunk into her shoulders “…you know me too well.”

Chromia sighed, but knew lecturing her wouldn’t help.

“So, what was the “little” favour?”

“I need a…date.” Windblade looked around to see if anyone was paying attention. “Just for the Celebration.”

Chromia stiffened, trying to pay attention to the details.

“Is that really less awkward than just telling your boss you’re not conjunxed? That you were just being polite and not correcting a person of authority?”

“Chromia…”

“I know, I know.” Chromia leant forward, resting her chin in her arms. “I need some information at least.”

“My superior is one of the kind of–” she gestured with her hands, “a nice mech who’s all about progressive values and letting Cityspeakers be more than their title, their job. So she’s excited about us having Amicas and Conjunxes that are formalized out of _love_ and all that. As opposed to arranged like her generation. So she’s really proud of her young, progressive, protégé who’s still managed to climb the ranks of a traditional craft. So, she’s excited to meet my Conjunx. Awkward, but could be worse, right?”

“I get it” Chromia thought through the conversation. “What is the favour you want of me?”

“I need you to be my date.”

“What? Why” Windblade is Windblade. She’s got to have at least one acquaintance who’d make a more classy fake-Conjunx for this sham.

Well. Chromia knew her more than anyone else. She is somewhat closed off, and Chromia thought she was a stuck-up jerk before they’d gotten to know each other, and she hadn’t opened up to her until that one unforgettable evening they were both drunk before their exams.

Before she realized she was probably Windblade’s only close friend she realized she had a crush. One she’d always assumed as off limits, seeing how Cityspeakers traditionally held arranged Conjunx and Amica ceremonies with other Cityspeakers, and that it was only a matter of time before Windblade too, was out of her vicinity.

“You’re the only one I trust,” Windblade said, with a bitter shrug. “My superior will probably believe it.”

“’Believe’? Believe what?”

“You being my Conjunx.”

“Are you sure”

“Yes.” She smiled. “You’re my type.”

Chromia couldn’t believe would just _say_ something like that. So casually too, like this is common knowledge, nothing to make any big thing about. Chromia still hasn’t admitted to Windblade any of her previous crushes from before they knew each other were, embarrassment too strong..

And, having to accept _she is Windblade’s type_. How in Slus’ forge is _she Windblade’s type?_ What were the implications?

“What is even your type? And why would your superior know?” she asked. If she never had any interest in what her type was, the question would inevitably have come up some day.

“A lonely needy outsider, who knows I’m also the same.”

“I’d be offended if you hadn’t included yourself in that statement,” Chromia huffed.

“Takes one to know one,” she said. Then, hopeful,

“Will you?”

“Um.”

“Be my Conjunx at the Celebration. If you won’t be my fake Conjunx, I’ll have to ask the, I don’t know, bartender.”

“No one would want that,” Chromia said, accurately. Would she accept someone else as her fake date? No. That was more out of the question than the mortifying reality she was halfway into agreeing with “When? Where? Do we have to match?”

“Three cycles, and they’ve just hired a convention hall at the Academy. I’ll comm you the peculiars.” A small smile. It’s genuine. And relieved. “Thank you. So much.”

“Any time,” Chromia’s voice is a whisper, “for you.”

___

Windblade arrived to pick her up, and it all feels uncomfortably like the academy dances she routinely skipped as a mechling.

A few deep intakes before she slid the door open and it’s still not enough to be prepared. Windblade is perfectly made up and accessorized in jewelry that was probably million of years old, like the murals of Cityspeakers of old. She is radiant.

Chomia had polished up of course, she knew how to avoid dirty looks at formal events, but standing next to a fully qualified Cityspeaker...

“Chromia,” Windblade said, same grateful look she had worn when Chromia had just agreed to this. “Thank you for doing this for me.”

She added, “you look really good.”

Chromia swallowed, a little out of her depth.

“Don’t thank me! I don’t mind going to a fancy formality with people from a, a, _culture_ I’m only really familiar with through what you’ve been telling me and lying to them the entire time.”

Windblade laughed. “I’ll make up for it. Somehow.”

“I’m not opposed to a few donations of Shanix, if you’d be up for paying my drinking bill next month.”

Windblade shook her head and smirked. “No money for fake dates. Don’t want to cheapen you.”

“I’ll accept two months.”

They argue back and forth on their way to the transporter, and before they know it they’re on their way to a formal Celebration - - Chromia tried to calm down. Spending time together was always better than being worried Windblade was being uncomfortable away from her.

On the way to the convention hall, Windblade filled her in on the details, trying to make her relax. It wasn’t that serious, she kept repeating, but it was hard to believe when she was dolled up so much…

Still. Even if it was fake, this was sort of like a date, wasn’t it…?

Then, Windblade rested her servo on the small of Chromia’s back, guiding her in with a casual form of intimacy that made Chromia’s spark beat feel like it was going out of contro.

_Chromia, this is a fake date. These feelings are fake. Calm down_ , she kept repeating to herself.

“My superior is excited to see you! Let’s find her first!”

“Are you regretting anything?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Good. Me neither.”

Windblade’s superior, mentor, authority figure, was a surprisingly friendly Camien, and just as excited to meet Chromia as Windblade had said. She said the story of how they met and got to know each other was mostly correct. But Windblade had added the lovely lie of them having conjunxed…

Windblade’s attention is on her. Loving, arm around her, like a Conjunx of many years.

This was all Chromia wanted, deep down, and it was fake.

“Uncomfortable?” Windblade murmured after an hour or so. “You’re doing great. Everyone likes you. I can tell.”

“You know, Cityspeakers tend to have more casual outings every now and then. You should tag along. I’m expected to go as part of this social circle, but…” hand still on Chromia’s back.

“Wouldn’t that be awkward? To keep this going?”

“No,” she said, looking at the other Cityspeakers, some of them with Amicas and Conjunxes, who also had that ‘a little out of place’ look Chromia did. “Do you think I can just announce we got Severed?”

“Oh.” That was a thing. Chromia was so far way in her lovesickness that the specifics of what it meant to have a Conjunx were forgotten to her.

Chromia choked, almost coughing. “Was this whole farce… your way of asking me out?”

“No, no, no.” she turned to Chromia, looking up at her with a smile. “This is me trying to avoid you having to ask me out.”

“Windblade, you really want to… date me?” it sounded so childish just saying it out like that, but…

“I was honest when I said you’re my type.” She rubbed the back of her neck softly. “I know it’s inapprorite, I should have just asked like a normal Camien, but I never figured out how and I…”

“You always go roundabout ways…”

Awkward smile. “You’re the one who knows me the most.”

Chromia couldn’t believe Windblade was practically confessing to her. “This is an actual date, then?”

“It can be. Us pretending to be conjunxed. Then we keep doing that to keep up appearances. Then we’ll see how it goes from there.”

This was exactly the sort of stupid roundabout method Windblade would use to ask someone out, Chromia just never thought she’d ever be the subject of it. So much was falling into place now. Those lingering looks, touches of their servos, nervous asking if she was meeting someone else.

Windblade is the one who leant up, but stopped right before their lips met. “Only if you want to, as well?”

“Of course,” Chromia said as she closed the distance.

The kis went on for long enough that the other Cityspeakers and their partners start taking note, but Windblade gracefully pays it no mind, dragging Chromia into her orbit.

This was so sudden. But so right. This was just the start, even if it had all started at the other end.

But what were formalities good for if they couldn’t be twisted?


End file.
